


You Got the Cure (Underneath Your Shirt)

by coffeehousehaunt



Series: AO3 Tag Generator Prompts [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dominant!Lexa, F/F, Oral Sex, PWP, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Shameless Smut, Zero concern for canon, dubcon, grounder!octavia, hate!sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:58:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"With her face buried in Lexa’s cunt, Octavia can’t tell if she wants to push deeper, lick her way inside—or bite her. Taste blood and feel that delicate flesh tear. Lexa, delicate—this is the closest Octavia will ever be to her throat. </p>
<p>Lexa knows. Lexa dares her to try." </p>
<p>Prompt: "Homoerotic military oral". I think I left "homoerotic" a few hundred miles back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Got the Cure (Underneath Your Shirt)

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of short fics/one-shots for the AO3 tag generator prompts. Multiple fandoms, multiple pairings, expect crack & ridiculousness and, apparently, hardcore smut. Canon-compliant by shreds if at all. 
> 
> Title from Natalia Kills, "Problem".

With her face buried in Lexa’s cunt, Octavia can’t tell if she wants to push deeper, lick her way inside—or bite her. Taste blood and feel that delicate flesh tear. Lexa, delicate—this is the closest Octavia will ever be to her throat. 

Lexa knows. Lexa dares her to try. 

Octavia digs her fingers into Lexa’s thighs until her fingertips go numb and slippery, scores bloody lines all the way from Lexa’s ass to the backs of her knees while she drags Lexa forward, more of her in Octavia’s mouth, more of Octavia’s mouth on her. Snarls and grinds the flat of her teeth into the soft spot just above Lexa’s clit. Makes Lexa pay for every long lick, for the ache in her jaw, for the hands that tighten greedy on Lexa’s thighs of their own volition. She smells sharp as ground steel, like oil on leather, like sex, like sweat, and smoke—like blood. It starts out like revenge, but sooner or later it’s Octavia on her knees with this thing crawling up her throat that can only be hunger. 

Lexa fists one hand in her hair and grinds until Octavia’s teeth ache. Octavia shifts her grip up, again—like she can taste the tension welling up out of Lexa’s cunt, taste her coming, that force clenching Lexa’s muscles under her hands and driving that sound that’s more than a gasp but not quite a moan—

Lexa shoves Octavia away, sends her sprawling, and Octavia stays there for a moment, jaw hurting like it’ll never go back to normal. Wipes her mouth on the back of one hand, bloody fingertips, while Lexa stares down at her with that little snarl cocked at the corner of her mouth, chest heaving, hands gripping either side of the throne—legs spread. Zero shame. A little feeling comes back to her face, and her whole mouth throbs, the press of Lexa’s sex a memory in pulses. 

“Dismissed.” Lexa husks.


End file.
